


Unexpected Collision

by Riennynn



Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Who RPF, Real Person Fiction, Torchwood RPF
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riennynn/pseuds/Riennynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One skinned knee, a spilled coffee, and an icy day turn out to be the best ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Collision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parapraxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parapraxis/gifts).



> For my darling Prax (iamianto.tumblr.com)
> 
> Purely fiction - though oh we wish it was real!. John and Scott belong to each other.

The icy sidewalk is enough of a challenge without balancing a steaming hot paper cup of coffee in one hand, gloved fingers fumbling with the paper sleeve while avoiding slippery patches underfoot.  You've pulled off one glove with your teeth to fish for car keys in your pocket when the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and a male voice on the phone in a one-sided conversation distantly seeps through the layers of scarf and coat collar protecting your ears.

 _Whoever it is, he can just go around,_ you huff in your head, cursing numb fingers.

You've just managed to snag your keyring with the tips of your fingers when the owner of that voice barrels straight on into your shoulder.  

There's barely time for a startled, "Oh!" before your boots go out from underneath you on the icy pavement.  It's almost in slow motion as you watch the coffee cup make a slow arc, lid flying off, steaming liquid hanging in the air for a moment before splattering down.  The hand that had just emerged with the keys goes out to break your fall, slamming into the pavement and sliding across the frozen gravel.  

Time starts again in the usual fashion when your knees hit the ground.  Pain shoots up from your left knee and you sprawl ungracefully.

You're dimly aware of the man hastily ending his phone conversation.  He's beside you on the ground in a moment, large hands gripping your shoulders.  

"Oh my goodness!  I'm so sorry - are you all right, miss?"

Blinking tears of pain out of your eyes, you register those same hands helping you to sit up, then hovering over your knee.  The thick wool tights are ruined there, scraped away, and there's blood with a little bit of gravel stuck in the skin.

"Thank god they're burgundy," you mutter.  

"Can you stand up?  I'm so sorry...wasn't looking where I was going."  The man's voice is rich and full of concern.  And somehow familiar.

You're about the give him a piece of your mind when his face swims into focus through the haze of a throbbing knee and the stinging cuts on your palm.

"No shit."  You think you sound awfully calm.

He helps you to stand, holding you against his shoulder.  "Look, there's no excuse for me not paying attention."  He's running the hand not firmly gripping your waist through his hair and you remind yourself not to stare.  "Let me get you somewhere you can sit and I - "  Your expression must be priceless, because he stops and actually blushes.  "You know who I am.  Oh damn.  Did I just injure a fan?"

There's another set of footsteps coming your way, and it stops behind you both.  

"What have you done now, John?"  Deep, British accent.  

Yep.  Enter the Twilight Zone.

You turn your head, and as (un)expected, there's Scott Gill with both hands shoved in his pockets, breath steaming out, amusement in his eyes.  At least until he walks around and sees your knee.

"Bloody hell, John!  Miss, are you all right?"

Suddenly there's two sets of hands holding you up on abruptly wobbly legs.

"Shit," you whisper.  It's greeted with two laughs.  "I'm pretty sure my knee is killing me."

John bends down and retrieves your car keys, tucking them back in your coat pocket.

"If you're ok to walk, let's go get you a new cup of coffee.  It's the least I can do.  Uhh, I'm guessing you know already, but I'm John and this is Scott."

Scott's laughter huffs into your hair.  "It's his new pickup line."

"Call me Prax," you grin.  

The day is looking better already.


End file.
